


Day of Reckoning

by ThatBitchintheCorner



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 12:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBitchintheCorner/pseuds/ThatBitchintheCorner
Summary: October, 2019In a modest bookshop in London, strange alliances have come to extract their revenge against the renegade angel and the traitorous demon.





	Day of Reckoning

Aziraphale loved this time of year, the way the streets were adorned with people in scarves and grey peacoats, the ever so slight chill in the air felt brilliant against his skin and the heightened excitement in Crowley’s voice as All Hallow’s Eve decorations lit up the the night. 

He stood by the window, sipping his hot chocolate, watching the everyday sights that, despite monotonous ritual of routine, brought him great joy considering how close he came to losing them forever.

He was snapped out of that routine quickly, as he picked up the presence of an approaching etherial being. This being was surrounded by an aura of malice, and for a moment, Aziraphale could not distinguish whether the being was from heaven or from hell.

“Hello Aziraphale.” A familiar voice rang in his ears.

“Gabriel,” he stiffened and a tightness filled his throat. From his corner of his eye, he could seeSandalphon and Uriel as they surrounded him. 

“Uriel, Sandalphon. It has been quite sometime.” Aziraphale swallowed hard.“Such a most unexpected visit.”

“Is it though?” Michael’s voice resonated from behind him, sending a chill down his spine.

“I told you that this day would come.” Gabriel’s violet eyes squinted as he looked angrily at the angel. “Or maybe it was Crowley that I was talking to, hard keeping the two of you straight these days. You see, it took us a little while to figure out how you both managed to survive, and I must say, that was a very clever...what’s that word?” Gabriel snapped his fingers as he was trying to recall.

“Ruse.” Said Uriel plainly.

Gabriel clapped his hands together in sarcastic delight. “Yes! Ruse! Fantastic job fooling us, but it seems your time is up.”

“Oh?” He asked painfully aware that a certain demon was rapidly approaching the bookshop. 

“Expecting someone, Aziraphale?” Michael, sensing the nearby demon, asked.

“You never know who might stop in for a book.” He answered as he tapped on a well worn copy of The King James Bible sitting on his desk, trying to remain calm. 

Please don’t come in here, please stay away . He prayed to himself, to no avail. Latches unhinged and the door flung open, the tinkling of the bell announced the arrival of a tall, slender figure, followed by the sound of a low, menacing hiss.

“Ssstrange smell in the old bookshop, seems someone didn’t get the message to stay the hell away.” Crowley’s voice growled.

“Crowley,” his voice trembled. “Run!”

“That is not a possibility, angel.” Crowley hissed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh good, your boyfriend’s arrived.” Uriel smirked at Aziraphale’s concern.

“Boyfriend?” Crowley, who was just aghast, recoiled as he sauntered through the door. “I take it you didn’t get the invite we sent you then. Lovely, intimate affair with oodles of red lilies and white roses, we even had a crepe station! Sorry you missed it.”

Sandalphon rolled his eyes and Uriel’s lip curled.

“This is just perfect!” Gabriel nearly giddy with glee. “Excellent timing, as I have some friends coming, and I just know you’re going to want to see them.”

As if on cue, four distressed figures emerge from beneath the ground, cropping up inside the bookshop like withered flowers. The scent of death and decay lingered in the air.

“Ah! Glad you could make it! Aziraphale, Crowley, Demons of Hell, Archangels, looks like the gang is all here! Couldn’t have a party without these guys. But where are my manners? Let me introduce everyone. Beelzebub, Prince of Hell, Hastur, Dagon and....uh...I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name.” Gabriel looks at the demon with 2 large cones of hair atop his head, the demon just shrugs. “I’m going to call you Francis. You see, my new friends and Francis have all come here just for you two. Do you mind standing between them, wouldn’t want them pulling another ruse.” He signaled to the demons and they circled around Crowley, blocking his path to Aziraphale.

The demon now known as Francis threw a punch a Crowley, hitting him squarely in the jaw. Crowley tasted blood in his mouth, and went to spit on the floor, but thought better when he caught Aziraphale’s eye. He instead swallowed, threw his head back and laughed. “Took you long enough to figure it out. Honestly, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you had enough brain cells between the 1,2,3,4,5-6-7 let’s see 8 of you to come to any intelligent conclusion.”

“Ha! Ha, ha, ha,” Gabriel forced a clearly fake laugh. “Admittedly, it did take an embarrassingly long time to realize that you two switched bodies, but we’re quick learners.”

“We were disgusted when we figured it out. I mean, who knows what other vile, hedonistic acts you two have been performing.” Sandalphon sneered as he shook his head.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Crowley smirked, wiping blood from his mouth onto the cuff of his brocade jacket.

“As tempting as that might be, I’m afraid we simply don’t have time for all the gross details. We have a schedule to keep, and I, personally, can’t wait to get started!” Gabriel raised him closed fists with enthusiasm.

“We have big plans for you both.” Hastur grinned, the frog on his head flicked its tongue.

“I was just getting to that, Hastur. I told you, I’d let you know when it’s your turn to talk.” Gabriel glared. “So, where was I?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Crowley yawned exaggeratedly with boredom. 

“Especially when I’m talking about the compete and utter destruction of the two beings I hate the most. Then I suppose I’m guilty.” Gabriel said as he clasped his hands together.

“You were just about to tell them what we’re going to do to them.” Beelzebub, clearly put out to be back on earth, groaned as flies crawled from the oozing wounds on his face.

“Right! You two have caused more than a few problems, and well, after that stunt you pulled with stopping the Great War, there have to be consequences. You should have taken the quick way out, and chosen immediate annihilation. Now, well, I’m afraid we’re a bit past that.” Gabriel smiled as he circled the pair. “Hastur, would you care to tell the happy couple what they’ve won?”

The demon grinned, his decaying teeth flashed. “You’re going to suffer. For starters, we’re going to rip your wings off. Tear them slowly, bit by agonizing bit, starting at the ends and working our way up. I can’t imagine it will be a quick process either, I imagine it will take a while to wrench them from your bodies, but I know I’m up for the task.”

Aziraphale glanced at the angels to either side of him, studying their expressions to see if there was even the remote possibility of finding an ally, yet both Sandalphon and Uriel seemed thrilled with the description of torture.

“So, you want to go all night with us then Hastur? Better set the mood then.” Crowley taunted as he snapped his fingers, lighting the many candles scattered throughout the bookshop. “Didn’t know you felt that way. Not sure you could keep up.”

Hastur growled in anger. “Joke while you still can, but you won’t be laughing when we’re showing off your mangled wings. I’m keeping yours. I have a special place for them in my office. Maybe Dagon can have a piece, depending on what’s left of them. Gabriel, you had dibs on old White Wings, right?”

To this, Gabriel raised his eyebrows as he nodded and flashed a cruel smile to Aziraphale.

“The party really begins after. We decided it would be fun to parade you both through Heaven and Hell, battered, bruised and bloody.” Hastur continued, beaming with delight. “The final stop on this tour ends with a bang. All of Hell will be in attendance as we kill the angel. What demon doesn’t want to see the enemy writhe in agony? What do you think his odd are for surviving Hellfire again?” Hastur asked aloud.

“Not very good.” Sandalphon quipped with a twisted smile.

“But don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Crowely! You get a front row seat to all the action!” Hastur continued his taunting.

Aziraphale could feel the air around Crowley change as the demon clenched his fists and tightened his jaw.

“Crowley,” he whispered. “It will be alright.” 

“Oh, I don’t think he likes our plan.” The one now named Francis chided.

“That’s what makes it fun.” Hastur laughed bitterly. “How long do you think it will take for this fat cherub to burn away completely? Not nearly long enough to satisfy me.” 

“Come now, Hastur!” Gabriel pretended to take offense. “You’re forgetting what comes next!”

“I haven’t gotten to that part yet.” Hastur grinned once more. “Then you get to watch it over and over and over again from now until eternity. You see, we’re not going to kill you Crowley, we’re going to keep you alive just so you can experience the exquisite hell of watching your precious little angel die again and again.”

“What’s wrong, Crowley?” Dagon teased. “No witty remarks? No snappy retort?”

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that. You’re going to wish you hadn’t stepped foot on Earth.” Crowley growled, his voice changing to a low hiss that rumbled through the room. “You have one last chance to walk away, to leave and never come back.”

“What are you going to do?” Uriel asked. “Fight all of us?” The collective swarm laughed at that prospect.

“Not me, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Crowley snickered. “But he might.” He gestured towards Aziraphale, who was already surrounded by a radiant light, growing brighter and hotter, filling the room with a powerful energy that was driven by a fierce love. 

Aziraphale listened as Hastur described the horrific manner in which his existence would end. As terrible as it sounded, he could endure it, that he knew beyond a doubt. But the cruel torment designed for Crowley, that was unimaginable. Crowley, the demon who saved children from the great flood. Crowley, who’s idea of damning souls to hell was to cut off their cell phone service for several hours. Crowley, who on occasion, still cried tears of joy when they made love. Crowley, who’s only mistake ever was asking questions, did not deserve the to suffer the wrath of heaven and hell. 

Aziraphale closed his eyes, allowing his memories to take take him back all the way to the beginning of the earth, those many millennia ago. To when The Almighty first tasked him to guard the Eastern Gate of Eden. “Aziraphale, there will come a time, and there will be only one such occasion, where you will have to fight. You will be needed to defend that which I have created, that which you love, from a fate worse than death.”

“But, you see, I don’t actually want to fight.” Aziraphale said timidly.

“That is why I chose you to be the guardian; because you are not seeking vengeance or glory, it is because, within you, there is a mighty capacity for forgiveness and understanding. But a day shall come when youcannot forgive and cannot understand. When that day comes, you will know. When that day comes, you will be ready, Aziraphale.”

Hastur’s words filled him with uncontrollable fear and a rage he had never known before. God’s words echoed in his mind “defend from a fate worse than death.” Surely this wasn’t the fight she was talking about. Surely she didn’t put him on earth to defend a demon from angels? He looked at Gabriel, desperately searching for any flicker of compassion to cross his face, but none came. He was glowing with joy, pleased that he was apart of this monstrous plan to end his life. There was no stopping this, no words he or Crowley could find to change their collective minds. He contemplated asking The Almighty for a way out of this, but he knew in his heart that she had already given him one.  Forgive them, for they know not what they do. Forgive me for what is about to happen. He prayed silently to himself.

His body knew before he could process what was happening to him. A heat ignited within him, a fierce inferno far beyond anything the depths of hell could conjure, and a force that was far more dangerous. An intense feeling of righteous love was propelling him, everything else faded away and a quiet calm filled his mind. He began to open his wings- not his feathered, earthly ones, but the ones created in the vastness of space, with the forces of knowing and the collection of ancient wisdom; wings that can only be described as a glowing, translucent aura beset with eyes that had never opened before; a luminous corona that surrounded the angel, encompassing his entity.

Gabriel signaled to Beelzebub, who dispatched Dagon and the one now called Francis to restrain the angel. 

Two shadow figures approached him, both vague, black shapes undefined; bearing no resemblance to the majestic beings they once were. In an instant, the figures seemed to bathe in a halo of white light, before fading completely from view. 

Crowley watched the demons approach Aziraphale. He held his breath, unknowing what was to come, but having what he could only consider to be a measure of faith. As soon as they laid their hands near Aziraphale’s celestial being, both demons began to break apart, light coursing through each of them until they disintegrated completely.  I knew it.  He filled with pride at witnessing what his love was capable of; after everything Aziraphale had endured, all the taunts and threats, the condescending remarks and the utter dismissal of his power, here he was, finally releasing what had been inside him all this time, and he was just magnificent.

“Oh you’re going to pay for that!” Beelzebub snarled with ferocious anger. “Hastur! Release the Hell Fire!” At his command, the decaying demon snapped open a box and flung it towards Aziraphale. Crowley snapped his fingers, sending the raging inferno towards Uriel, who’s screams filled the room as she desperately tried to extinguish the terrible flames scorching away her skin. Michael doused her in holy water, but the damage was already done; Uriel’s body continued to smolder, blackened and burned from Hell Fire, until the angel was nothing more than ash.

Should have stayed away.  Crowley thought to himself.

“Sandalphon,” Gabriel spat angrily. “Attack!”

The angel did as he was commanded, and drew his sword as he ran towards the brilliant celestial being. 

Aziraphale became aware of the other forms in the room, two more grim shadows stood together, their movements becoming frantic and the darkness surrounding them felt more menacing. A vivid purple form screamed out in agony as it twisted violently against the fires of hell that will never completely extinguish. But the greatest danger came from the glowing red presence standing just off centered from him. Another figure moves towards him; this one putrid green with a glint of gold flashing. 

Aziraphale, stood perfectly still, opened his nine sets of celestial eyes, each set opening one at a time, each larger than the next, all glowing with a light of righteousness; eyes that focused completely on the figure before him. Eyes that burned with memory, eyes that burned with justice. 

Sandalphon, caught in Aziraphale’s glare, came to a halt, he raised his blade and grinned, flashing his golden teeth. Suddenly, his face changed as the blade began to crumble, falling into tiny fragments. Aziraphale continued to stare, emotionless as an expression of terror fell upon Sandalphon’s face as he could feel his entity slipping away, his eyes grew colorless, empty and hollow. 

Crowley hissed and blew lightly upon the pillar that once was an archangel, sending particles scattering throughout the bookshop.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming.” Crowley laughed spitefully, his eyes continued to focus on his beloved angel.

“Why can’t leave?” A terrified voice belonging to Michael cried out.

“As you lot have been scheming, angel and I have been busy too. You see, we knew you would come for us, and where better to attack us than where we live? See that, on the floor?” Crowley hissed as he pointed towards the glowing lines etched upon the well-worn cherry wood floor beneath their feet. “That keeps all of us here, no more extraordinary renditions. No running away. No escape.”

“How dare you!” Gabriel roared. “You killed an archangel! How is that possible? We are the most powerful beings in Heaven!”

“Ah,” Crowley smiled. “In Heaven, yes. But you’re not in Heaven now, are you? You see that little, round, dapper and genial book dealer with those irritatingly endearing catch phrases, that unassuming beauty is who God chose to protect the earth. You might have forgotten who he is, so let me remind you, he’s the Principality fucking Aziraphale so shut your stupid mouth, and die already.” 

Gabriel, filled with rage, unfurled his tremendous wings and unsheathed his mighty sword. He stood, prepared for battle, prepared to destroy any who stood in his way. He charged at the Principality; angel versus angel, something God herself could not have foreseen and yet, here it was playing out in a quaint antique bookshop in SoHo. Gabriel raised his sword above his head, ever so close now to annihilating his adversary when a hand grabbed his arm, holding him in place, lifting him off the ground. He struggled in vain to move, twisting and shaking violently.

Aziraphale, who was holding up the massive archangel without the slightest of exertion, who had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, finally opened his mouth to speak. The sound that finally burst from him could only be described as the collective voices from humanity, 6000 years of men, women and children who had lived, loved and died, long forgotten by history. The wall of sound poured from him, focused squarely on Gabriel. The archangel screamed back, his voice drowned out by the throng of souls crying out in unison. Gabriel’s strangled voice grew quieter and quieter still, until no sounds were heard, no sound would ever be heard from him again. The blast tore through the down feathers of his wings, causing them to peel away, one by one, cast off until all that was left were skeletal remains, frail and exposed. The archangel dropped to his knees, tears of blood streaming from his eyes. Utterly defeated. Completely spent.

One of the dark shadows moved towards Crowley in a frantic attempt to ransom his life against his own. Hastur’s aura was a pale grey, where a great hatred once was, now a palpable fear in its place. 

“I’ll discooperate him and send him back to Hell! You can’t reach him there, so hurt me and he dies.” Hastur desperately cried. 

He looked at Crowley, seeing him with eyes that were brand new, seeing the splendors of the world for the first time. A vibrant flash of red with fantastic, golden eyes stared back at him. Magnificent wings of pure white surrounded him, and he emanated a wave of love that seemed to resonate against something that swelled inside of him; two instruments vibrating on the same frequency, twin souls rejoicing at their reunion, two stars exploding in unison in a far off nebula, each existing completely for the other. Oh Crowley,  he thought.  If only you could see yourself, right now, through my eyes

Aziraphale felt no remorse, no pity, no mercy. The demon had threatened his love, and as long as he remained in Hell, Crowley would forever be in danger. He opened his corporal eyes, his locked with Crowley’s, and in that instant, they understood. They were now, as they had been, so uniquely intertwined, so completely bound together that they were two halves of a whole.  I am him, and he is me. There was a reason why they were always acutely aware of the other being in peril, a reason why no matter where in the world the other was, that they could always find each other; that connection allowed him to move freely into Crowley’s body- differently from when they switched human forms, this felt more intimate and raw. 

Crowley turned to face Hastur, dangerously close to the vile demon who had moments ago, held his life in his wretched hands. “There is something you don’t understand.” His voice echoed with Aziraphale’s, two creations speaking as one. “You threatened what I love the most, you who are without love, shall feel the full extent of ours.”

He touched Hastur’s chest with his long, thin finger and took a step backwards. Hastur made not a sound as an unseen force overtook his body, pulsing through his damned soul to the very core of his entity, imploding him, like a dying star.

Michael and Beelzebub stood frozen in terror, neither willing to move until they felt the shift of Aziraphale leaving Crowley’s body and returning to his own.

“Anyone else want a go?” Crowley smirked, still enjoying the sensation of his beloved occupying him completely.

“Aziraphale,” Michael began, voice quivering. “We should have stayed away. Please, show us your mercy.” 

“Crowley, if you kill me, Satan will come for you.” Beelzebub sputtered, the flies around him unusually docile, huddling together in Beelzebub’s rancid hair.

“No.” Aziraphale said quietly with his own voice, the glow around him fading as he returned to his earthly form. “No more death.” He murmured to Crowley, who reached for his hand.

“Leave, and take that thing with you.” Crowley hissed as he gestured to Gabriel’s mangled body. “Leave us, and never return.”

Michael and Beelzebub nodded in earnest. Gabriel raised his head slightly, blood still spilling from his eyes, his cheeks sunken and mouth agape, and nodded once. He could not meet Aziraphale’s gaze. 

Crowley snapped his fingers, releasing the magic that confined them all within the walls of the bookshop. Beelzebub was the first to disappear, a plume of green smoke filled his wake. Michael turned to Gabriel before taking one final look at Aziraphale. 

“I am sorry.” Michael said, helping Gabriel to his feet, before both figures disappeared in a white cloud of smoke.

Aziraphale collapsed to his knees, completely spent. Warm arms caught him and pulled him close. Gentle fingers stroked his cheek and the light touch of kisses tickled his forehead. 

“I was so afraid.” He could no longer contain himself, his voice breaking as a sob burst from him; tenderly, he curled his body into Crowley’s.

“So was I.” Crowley said quietly as he held him tightly in his arms, tears filled his eyes. “So was I.”

“What they were going to do to you. I couldn’t...” He tried to quiet the tears that kept running down his face.

“Shhhh,” Crowley hummed softly. “It’s over now. You were incredible, my love.” Crowley cooed softly as he cupped the angel’s face in his hands. “Just magnificent.”

“How did you know that I...could do...” Aziraphale whispered as the demon placed his forehead against his.

“Oh angel,” Crowley purred as he moved in for a kiss. “I had faith.”

“I imagine I will be cast out now, damned by God for killing...oh Crowley!” His voice choked on a sob. “I killed them. I nearly destroyed Gabriel.”

“Fuck Gabriel. He deserved what he got.” Crowley grumbled as he smoothed his beloved’s hair. “His first mistake was underestimating you.”

“God will be so angry with me.” He swallowed hard as a flood of tears poured from his eyes. 

“Come on! God loves you! You’re her favorite angel.Besides, she could have stopped you at any point, and you didn’t really kill anyone, you just sort of, um, disintegrated them. I mean, I’m sure Gabriel will be just fine...ehhh eventually.”

“Crowley!” He cried. “I’ve never killed anything before.”

“I know my love. But they were going to destroy you.” Crowley’s eyes met his, a surge of love flowed through him.

“I didn’t do it to save my own life. I couldn’t let them hurt you. I’ve never felt that kind of fear before. Or that kind of anger. When Hastur threatened you, I knew there was no stopping what was going to happen.” He said quietly, running his thumb along Crowley’s bottom lip. 

“Well, it seems this time, you saved my life. A nice change of pace don’t you think?” Crowley smiled. “Suppose I should say thank you.”

“That is not necessary, my dear.” He sighed as he swept a lock of red hair from Crowley’s face.

“Well, if you won’t let me say thank you, how about I should you my gratitude.” Crowley murmured, his breath pressed against his ear, his fingers tracing up his thigh, his tongue flicked lightly against his neck.

“Oh!” He blushed. “Well, I suppose that would be ahhh.” He moaned with exquisite pleasure as he pulled Crowley on to his lap.

“Can I tempt you into going upstairs?” Crowley growled as the demon dug his hips against his own, pressing and releasing in a rhythmic hum. 

“Temptation accomplished.” He sighed as he raised his hips, thrusting hard against Crowley’s, He moaned with delight before taking Crowley’s hand. He would always follow his beloved, wherever he dared to lead, wherever he tempted him to go; there was no hesitation, no force in Heaven or Hell that could stir him from the singular pursuit of the being he loved more than anything. And if God objected, than God be damned.

“I love you.” He whispered as breathless as a blissful prayer. 

“And I love you, my angel.” 


End file.
